Vintage Anderson and Sheppard

Dropping the name Anderson and Sheppard into any serious sartorial conversation is like dropping a bomb; in the words of their former managing director, “You either swear by our coats or you swear at them”. For some reason, they inspire a lot of swearing.



Founded in 1906 by Frederick Scholte’s undercutter, Per Anderson, the house has been fairly faithful to their house cut of a soft, draped coat. Depending on which sources you consult, this can mean all sorts of things. I admit that I am not a fan of what I have seen from them, namely overly wide, droopy shoulders and lumpy, messy chests, not to mention the backs and the sleeves which I think could be improved a lot. I also admit that their managing director, while credited with having brought them back from the brink, will occasionally say the darndest things which make my head spin and I immediately shut off and dismiss him. I suppose that is human, but it is throwing the baby out with the bathwater, perhaps. But there is so much mystique and lore surrounding them that I was, of course, insanely curious about their garment. So when a reader offered to donate a garment to science, I was thrilled.

Thank you, Simon.


They have a beautiful web page which is worth visiting, and an SF member blogs about the A&S's visit to New York here.

This coat was made in 1987 but the trouser in 1992- we can assume that the owner wore out the first pair and was fortunate enough that they had the cloth to make another pair five years later. The only information (other than the client name and date) on the label is an order number and the initial C. Often this represents the cutter’s name but we can’t assume anything yet (anyone know anything that they care to share?)

I have to say that this was a tough one. A very tough one. I try to be as objective as I can when examining a garment, especially one from which I can learn things. But his garment is a mess. Not just because of its age, which is showing. In fact, we can lay to rest another myth, namely that bespoke lasts a lifetime. It can, if well cared for. But it is not the rule; this garment has been repaired a number of times, and not well at all. It is also falling apart at the (hand-sewn) seams. Looking past the age and the repairs, the sewing is a mess. It is truly not worthy of any decent tailoring house, much less one that claims to be one of the best. I was having a very hard time preparing an objective, fair and balanced look when all I was tempted to do was tear it to shreds, literally and figuratively, and launch into a tirade, even though the garment is over 20 years and one can assume they have cleaned up their act since otherwise they would surely be out of business by now.

But then I put it on a dummy.

And paused.





A&S has a possibly unwarranted reputation for cutting shapeless sacks. Certainly the ones I have seen were ugly things. But not this one; instead of wide, droopy shoulders, it has a moderately wide, softly padded shoulder which is in balance with the rest of the garment. And there is a shape. The most shapely garment I have ever examined. A huge drape allowance on the back, and ugly, bizarre sleeves. But shape- good shape. So, curious, I tried it on. It’s not my size, but I know about putting garments on my body which are not my size.

And then I paused again.

I think I stood looking in the mirror for a full fifteen minutes. Looking past the awful sewing, and some of the stylistic things that bug me, this silhouette did not look bad at all. I even caught myself thinking that if the cloth were not in such rough shape I could cut it down and wear it myself. Then I started moving around, and thought, damn, this thing IS comfortable. Then I had another look at the chest and the drape there. It was not the lumpy chest I was used to seeing, but a nicer fold, a real drape, not just bulk, and I can honestly say that at that moment I got it. I understood it. I also understood the bias canvas business, I think, but we’ll get to that.

The thing is, though, I suspect this is the work of Colin Harvey. The skirt has a flare that reminds me of the Prince of Wales’ garments, which were cut by Mr. Harvey. The C on the label would bear it out. So either there was once a maverick cutter at A&S whose work I can appreciate, or there was once a house style infinitely more palatable than what is being done now, which is possibly lost in time. Whatever the case is, keep in mind that the following is, after all, a review of a 20-year old garment and can’t be taken for a reflection of the house today since there have been a number of changes of staff. We hope there were changes in the level of quality as well.

A DB three by two and a single forward pleated trouser with side tab closures; I understand that it is unusual that this coat had a front dart and a separate side body which helps to give it shape.

Here we see the massive back drape



And a sleeve which I find atrocious but which I have actually concluded will give you more movement than a cleaner one. More on that in another post.



I won’t bore you with all the gory details, just some of them. And you may think I’m being nitpicky about silly things like pattern matching. But pattern matching is a sort of signpost. There are so many details in a garment that you can’t see, that we pay special attention to certain details like pattern matching as a sign of the level of attention to detail. If the things you can see are not done well, you can assume that the things that you CAN’T see are also not done well. So while I can see the rest and judge it, you may not be able to. That’s why pattern matching and things like that are important.

A&S is one of the few that bother to match the pocket jets, as a sign of their attention to detail. It is sad, then to see one pocket so madly mismatched.



The other pocket is much better; maybe it was the tailor’s excitement in doing a much better job on this pocket that led him to forget to pick stitch it. I am joking in part, but not about the forgetting to finish it part.


The collar is another spot- the collar should match the back. Like the pockets, they got one side right, just not both.



Their much-vaunted hand-sewn armhole seam is coming apart



as is the gorge.



The tab closures are sloppy



And the breast welt has sagged so much that the facing seam shows.



In a previous post I remarked that, while scrounging on ebay I was surprised by the lining, thinking that they had taken the step of cutting the inside pockets directly onto the lining, which is not only weak, but makes lining changes difficult. When I put my hands on the Huntsman and Poole garments I found I was wrong and they had been carefully crafted by hand to resemble the cheaper way of doing it, but the pocket was actually mounted on concealed cloth and in a way which made changing the lining easy when it wore out.

Imagine my surprise to find that not only has the lining been inserted by machine, but the pockets are cut directly onto it, the way I initially feared they would be. And they are absolutely sloppy pockets.



And this is what happens over time when we make sloppy pockets, only now it is a big job to change the lining because of the way it was initially made.



The hem is sloppy



And the neck is worse



The trouser finishing is no better, and to add insult to injury, they have used black thread on red lining. In several spots of the trouser and the coat.



Then things get more interesting. The linen canvas, which was expected, is cut on the straight grain, which was not. They are known for cutting their canvas on the bias.



Their MD has explained that bias-cut canvas has the benefit of stretching in the length, to which I say “So what?” The coat does not stretch so why should the canvas stretch? There is no vertical tension on the coat, it does not button up under your crotch or get hooked onto your plus-fours, so why the need to stretch? It makes no sense at all.

BUT the merits of bias-cut cloth have long been known because of its unique ability drape. Ah. Vionnet was a genius with bias-cut cloth and was a huge influence on my dress-making days. Aside from stretching, the bias allows cloth to roll in a way that the straight grain does not. So if the drape in the chest were allowed to roll, a bias-cut canvas would help it. THIS would make total sense. So maybe old John is ad-libbing instead of sticking to the script. In any case, it will only roll if it is not impeded by the chest canvas which usually extends into the armhole.

We see here that the chest canvas is cut well clear of the armhole; this will allow the excess cloth cut for the drape style to fold near the scye instead of puffing out like a swelled chest would do. Taking off the domette we can see that there is haircloth underneath, just a smaller, carefully positioned piece.



Unfortunately, the haircloth is of a very bad quality and is migrating- you can see the hairs jutting into the armhole



And the fact that I can pull it out easily shows there is no crimp to the hair which would have prevent this migration. It would also have prevent the vee from coming apart at the shoulder as it did. When you feel prickly, plastic-like things poking your chest, it is probably bad haircloth that is migrating like this one.



The shoulder has one little piece of wadding supported by a piece of linen and covered by a layer of lining. Just a whisper, but it is enough since the shoulders are not exaggeratedly wide. The shoulders they cut today need much more support to keep them up, and yet they sag.


What do I conclude from this? Well, I know a few things about drape that I didn't before and see what I did wrong on my previous drape experiment. I also know that it's worth a second look. So stay tuned, as we will be making some more drape.

(I hear the sound of Sator weeping....)

UPADTE

Some comments from Mr. Seitelman which are valid and deserve a response (thank you, Mark)

Dissection is an interesting exercise, and I have followed your blog.

Indeed, Mike Cohen, former president of Oxxford, used to dissect competitors' suits. he knew how to do it so as to put the suit back together.
We follow in Domenico Caraceni's great tradition of examining other people's clothes.

the examination of the this suit is not necessarily a fair example of A & S workmanship either back in 1987 or today.
I was quite clear that it is not a reflection of their work today.

For example,

1. It is a 22 year old suit which has been worn to death in probably rain, snow, etc.
I have taken this into consideration and not shown the parts which have worn out due to age and been repaired; the repair work is truly disgraceful and while it would be normal for A&S to do their own repair work it is not a given. What has been shown is, in my opinion, the result of sloppy work or faulty trimmings (with one exception).

MS-2. Due to its age, it is to be expected that a much of the hand sewing would be coming apart especially if it were worn regularly. Similarly, the canvases would age. Does not a brick building require repointing every 20 years? I would say that if the suit had been relined, some of the issues with the canvas would have been corrected.
I agree with you, however one of the arguments that many use as a justification for hand sewing is that it is supposed to be stronger and last longer, which is often not the case, just the opposite. I merely intend to illustrate that point. The canvas would have to be replaced to correct the hair migration and I doubt they would have done that in the course of a reline. It's a problem with the material they used which caused it to fall apart.


3. Due to age and perhaps poor maintainence there would be sagging of certain parts, such as the outside chest pocket.
The breast welt is usually made in such a manner such as the facing seam will never show, even if the pocket should sag. This pocket was badly made.

4. We do not know if this suit were made for a customer or for one of the cutters or tailors. If it were made for an A & S employee, then certain shortcuts might have been taken to get the suit done quickly.
This suit was not made for an employee, it was made for a person who is known to the public. I have obscured his name on the label for privacy.

Saint Andrews

A busy post box this week. A parcel came yesterday and today a notice that the post office is holding one; I'm hoping it's the A&S I've been waiting for. In the meantime, I give you Saint Andrews. Thanks to HRoi for getting it here so quickly!



Also known as Saint Andrews, Sartoria Santandrea produces garments for a number of better doors but is not so well known in North America except perhaps by fans of Ralph Lauren's Purple Label, as Santandrea produces some of their tailored clothing (perhaps all? at one point Cantarelli also did some).

There's not a lot to learn from this garment but for the sake of those who are trying themselves who makes a better garment, let's have a look at some of the details.

The buttonholes are very nice (naturally, they are done by hand) and the top buttonhole (the one that is meant to be buttoned, not the boutonniere) has been worked on both sides.





The back of the buttonhole



Something interesting.

If you go to their site and go to "lavorazione", then "asole" you see someone making a buttonhole by hand. If you look closely you can see that the buttonhole has been whip stitched before making it (which is typical), but the stitches are very close together, which raised a flag. I have mentioned before that certain well-known Neapolitan makers make their buttonholes by machine with fine thread first then work them again by hand. A friend of mine who worked for a company which does it told me about this, saying it was much easier to get consistency in the cutting of the hole, and because it was all stitched up first, which is stronger than a hand stitch. It made the buttonholes much easier to make. We were talking about this because I was looking for gimp alternatives and he told me that by doing this, no gimp is necessary. As open-minded as I like to think I am about machines, this was one line I was not willing to cross.

Anyway, back to Santandrea. Having seen that photo on their site I got curious so I ripped one of the (admittedly beautiful) buttonholes and found one little strand of silk twist, which is usually not nearly enough to gimp a buttonhole. Under my big magnifying glass, though, I could just make out an extremely fine thread and a distinct machine stitch (a tiny zig-zag which maybe you can make out in the photo). They had been worked and cut by machine before being remade by hand over top. My mind still rebels, but it does make sense for the longevity (no slippage in loose cloth, which is sometimes a problem) and it does make a nice buttonhole. Something to think about......



Anyway, back to the garment.

Shamholes done by hand on the sleeve



However the inside of the sleeve has been finished for functional buttonholes.



The underside of the flap shows that the pick stitching was done by hand in a slightly heavier silk thread than the English use- the English use a very fine thread so that it is very discreet whereas the Italians like it to be a little more showy. But not much. The little prick marks about 1/4" form the edge are from an edge baster- instead os basting edges by hand which is actually a little uneven and can produce a slightly wobbly looking edge, we use a single-thread chainstitch machine to baste the edges during production. The chainstitch is very easy to remove before final pressing.



The neck has all been finished by hand and the top collar has been drawn on completely by hand.



The collar itself has been constructed by hand (though padded by machine) note that there is no turnback at the end of the collar.


The breast pocket is the curved "barchetta" type and is done by hand, the same way I learned to do them, as opposed to the way I recently learned to do them thanks to Huntsman and Jukes.



Notice there is no exposed seam allowance inside the breast pocket and it has been felled by hand, not by machine.



A moderate amount of wadding in the sleeve head and a moderate pad- more than Poole, about the same as Huntsman, a little less than Brioni.



The canvas holds no surprises, though it has been made with a zig-zag machine as opposed to the twin-needle jumpstitch machine that I prefer.



Removing the felt, we can see that instead of haircloth, which is firm and expensive, there is another piece of the same type of canvas as is used on the front. It's been machine padded to within an inch of its life, which makes it a bit firmer but still softer than haircloth, so I'm not going to bother ripping the stitches to open it up.



Instead, I hold it up to a strong light to see what's inside. There is a haircloth shoulder reinforcement and you can see the series of vees, or cuts, to give the shoulder some shape.



Finally, a look at the shoulder seam, which is machine-sewn and stayed with a piece of bias-cut silesia. If you read the Poole dissection you will remember that Poole stayed the shoulder with a straight-cut piece of lining which had no give- this silesia will stabilize the shoulder but still give. I will soon be conducting some experiments concerning elasticity in the shoulder so stay tuned......



In response to Jordan's questions and comments about the curved barchetta pocket, I agree, when well done it can be quite nice, though sometimes it is overdone and looks affected. It is the default shape in southern Italy and is catching on in the North too, so I doubt any of them would think it would clash with a straight-cut lower pocket, so long as it was subtle.

The pocket welt itself is curved, not straight cut and bent into shape, and therein lies a bit of the difficulty in making the pocket (and why some curve it a lot more in order to show off a bit) so it's not an issue where stripes and plaids are concerned.

Henry Poole & Co.

Reputed to be the founders of Savile Row as well as the creators of the tuxedo, Henry Poole has a long and proud history of tailoring. Their website has a good amount of information about them so I won't get into it much, except to say that they have also been known to be among the more flexible and progressive on the Row. They even had a female cutter as early as the sixties, IIRC.

My most recent purchase has two front buttons with hacking pockets, side vents, and the long front dart we have now seen on a number of garments, and no separate side panel.


Sometimes these dissections can provide more questions than answers, and this garment is no exception. Because of their willingness to adapt to customer's wishes, to be innovative in the craft, and to not be too adherent to any particular "house style", it is difficult to make generalizations based on one garment. I suppose that can be said of all of them, but in this case in particular, I am stumped about a few things. More knowledgeable readers are encouraged to let us all know what we may be missing here.


To start, there is no label inside the pocket with a date or customer name on it. One instantly wonders if this may be ready to wear but I have found no information to the effect that they ever offered RTW; the garment has also clearly been fitted to somebody's shape and not a stock size, and alterations have been done by very skilled hands, likely ones that were involved with the initial construction of the coat.


The buttonholes are fairly neat, though it is quite obvious that only two of the four sleeve buttonholes function and two are shamholes.





The inside pockets are neatly finished in what I now guess is the Row's manner of finishing. The hand felling is neatly done, if not quite as tightly spaced as the Huntsman.



The hand felling is more obvious around the neck and shoulder.



Another surprise, which is not so easy to see in the photo, is that the back was not cut so as to be able to match the collar. Notice the spacing of the blue lines on the back compared to the collar. We hear a lot about the importance of pattern matching, but this is not the first time that we see a back cut so as not to match the collar, and I recently saw a photo of a number of sleeves (from another Row maker) whose checks were off by a mile. I guess it's not as important as we have been led to believe.



The front canvas is linen only, no hair, which is another surprise. I expected this from a soft A&S-type garment, but not from Poole. The chest feels fairly firm and the hand padding is also fairly dense so I'm not sure of the reasoning behind using linen and no hair. It's possible that the cloth is so bulky that the cutter felt that hair canvas was not necessary for the front. The roll of the lapel would not be as rich, but again, that is a personal preference that they may not share.



Let's look again at the canvas, only closer.



The lapel and the collar have been padded by machine.

Wow.

I've explained my feelings about hand padding the collar before, namely that I don't feel that it's necessary, but I do prefer a hand-padded lapel. I've been told that Gieves has padded their lapels by machines for a long time now; I'm wondering if this is normal for Poole or was done especially for this garment for some reason. In their forward-thinking they may have determined that the slight added benefit of hand padding may be offset by using bulky cloth and linen canvas and that there is not enough benefit to merit the significant cost. Mere speculation on my part. I really don't know.

Ripping away the felt which covers the haircloth in the chest, we find a large piece of haircloth with a linen support piece in the scye and another haircloth support piece in the shoulder. So this coat is actually ever-so-slightly more structured than the Huntsman, which is supposed to be firmer. Fascinating.


The shoulder vees in the canvas have been stitched down with canvas, the way I would expect them to be (the Huntsman vees were left free, for reasons I have yet to figure out)



There is a fairly minimal amount of wadding in the shoulder but also a piece of pukh (for want of an english word)



Here is the pad once it has been removed



The sleeve head is the "on roll" type, which I don't like for reasons which are obvious here. They tend to disintegrate and get lumpy over time, whereas a shaped sleeve head conforms better to the shoulder and won't fall apart like this. On a sport coat it's not really an issue, but on fine worsteds it looks bad.



Which brings me to the greatest surprise of all. For me.

IN the photo of the sleeve wadding, you can see there is a piece of gray lining around the bottom of the armhole. Looking closely, we see that the sleeve has been set by machine. Many houses insist this seam and the shoulder seam must be done by hand to allow for flexibility and to be able to fit the fullness of the sleeve in, but not only has this been done by machine, the initial thought of "cost saving measure?" is instantly dashed by the fact that the lining sewn onto the armhole is straight cut. This prompts a look at the shoulder seam.



Not only is it also done by machine, but there is also a straight-cut piece of lining staying the seam.

What does this mean?

It means that the tailor at Henry Poole not only disagrees with the idea that the scye and shoulder seams should stretch, he has inserted a straight-cut stay to PREVENT the seams giving any.

WOW. Double WOW. This is potential bespoke heresy. But is there anything to it?

I'm now, more than ever, tempted to take a trip over to London to have a series of chats with people, especially now that I would like to understand the tailor's reasoning behind this complete about-face from tradition.

In the meantime, however, a series of experiments testing the validity of the theory of elasticity in these seams are in order. Maybe Poole has already quietly done their testing. I will also measure the size of the sleeve compared to the armhole and the amount of fullness they have worked in to test the theory of the necessity of hand-sewing the fullness.

And since Santa Claus brought me a camcorder for Christmas it will be that much easier to illustrate the results. Thanks, Santa.

UPDATE

A few interesting suggestions have been made.

I don't think that this garment was a licensed garment for several reasons; first, I acquired it from a vendor in London, not the far east where the licenses are held, but more importantly, I believe the label of licensed product reads Henry Poole of Savile Row wheres this garment bears the full Henry Poole and Co. 15 Savile Row etc. This is also an indication that the garment was made after 1982 when they moved form their premises on Cork to their current address. The garment, in almost all respects, has all of the hallmarks of a London-made suit. It is also of a size which would surprise me to see sold in Asia.

I think the most likely answer is that this was a made-to-measure garment rather than full bespoke. The cost of such garments, being lower than bespoke, could explain the machine padding, even though, as I am told, Gieves and Hawkes has been doing their bespoke in this way for years. It could also explain the lack of a customer label. I might contact Poole for comment, though their reluctance to do so would be understandable, in which case I will have to try to put my hands on a garment which we know to be bespoke, for comparison. Perhaps one of Mark's friends have worn out one of theirs and would be willing to let it go for a small price?

I should also add that I have never heard anything other than the highest praise for Poole, which can not be said of all the houses.

ANOTHER UPDATE
There was a coat on ebay, made in 2007, cut by Simon Cundey himself, which would have made a perfect comparison garment but I was outdone in a last-minute bidding frenzy. To whomever outbid me I say "grrrr". But I will keep trying. And Kiton is definitely next on my list, particularly since they made some pretty dubious claims in print recently. We shall see about that.....


A FINAL UPDATE-

I am led to believe that management at Poole's was unaware that the padding was being done by machine and have since insisted that all lapels and collars be padded by hand.